


Fix my Home, Love my Heart

by bellarkegriffin_blake



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunk Sex, F/M, clarke just moved in, handyman bellamy, not sure what the plot was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellarkegriffin_blake/pseuds/bellarkegriffin_blake
Summary: Clarke just moved to town, but to a shitty apartment that always needs work. The handyman, Bellamy Blake, is very handsome and the two hit it off right away. He helps her through a tragic twist in life.





	Fix my Home, Love my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a totally different idea than it ended up as. I'm not sure if it's even any good, but I couldn't abandon it. Oh well, it's done and you may like it, I don't know.

Clarke walks around her new apartment. Cabinet doors are crooked, there are holes in the wall covered in duct tape, and she can see outside through a crack in the door frame. It’s not the Ritz, but it is all she could find in her price range. She hated the congestion of the city, so she moved here to the rural town of Arkadia. Back home, in Polis, it took an hour to drive to work, which was only across town. Plus, there was constant construction, annoying people that couldn’t bother to be nice, and it cost five dollars to get a decent cup of coffee. Not to mention her completely overbearing mother is there. She didn’t want to leave her father, but she couldn’t handle it anymore. She had to get out. 

Her boxes are littered everywhere along with the clothes she threw on top of her bed. The entire place is a mess. There is no logical place to start, so she pulls out her bluetooth speaker, connects her phone, and blares her music. If she is going to work all day, she is damn sure going to have something to listen to. She picks and chooses the boxes to unpack, starting with the kitchen. 

She has half the kitchen unpacked when movement startles her. A small brown blob scurries from the door to under the table. Her heart is pumping fast as she bends over to see what it is. She lets out a high pitched screech and hops up onto the counter. Clarke hates mice. She pulls out her phone and calls her landlord, Aurora. 

After a couple rings, her light voice answers, “Hello?” 

“Um, hello. This is Clarke Griffin from apartment four. I have a mouse in my kitchen and, quite honestly, they scare me to death. Can you send someone to get rid of it for me?” 

“Of course, Clarke. I will have someone over there soon.” 

“Thank you!” She hangs up the phone and waits right there on the counter. There is no way she is getting off and scaring the rodent away. It is waiting perfectly still under the table like that is its home. Hell, maybe it is. Ten minutes later, there is still no sign of help. Her ass is falling asleep from the uncomfortable position she is in. She passes the time playing solitaire on her phone. Finally, after a half an hour, a loud knock comes to the door. 

“It’s open!” she yells. The door swings open and a man with olive skin and messy brown hair walks through. 

Without looking up from the paper in his hands, he says, “So I am here for a mouse? I’ve got to say that’s a first for me. Not that we haven’t had mice in the past, but usually the tenants are capable of taking care of it themselves...” he trails off when he looks at Clarke and sees her crossed arms and raised eyebrow. 

“You were saying?” she quips. 

“I, um, where is it?” He rubs the back of his neck and half smiles at her. _Damn, he’s hot_, she thinks to herself. 

“Under the table like it was thirty minutes ago when I called.” 

“Sorry, I had to drop my sister off for class because her car broke down. Added that to my list of things to do, too.” 

“It’s fine. Can you please just get rid of it?” 

His lips spread wide he gives a low chuckle. “Sure thing.” He gets on all fours and slowly approaches the animal. She watches as his muscular arms reaches towards it. She expects it to run away from the giant hands that look like they could crush him, but instead it hops into the open palm in front of it. 

“There you go,” he whispers as he gently closes his fingers around the mouse. “Nothing to be afraid of.” She rolls her eyes, but he doesn’t see. When he gets out from under the table, she notices a band of bare skin above the waist of his jeans. She feels heat radiate through her body, but she ignores it and crosses one leg over the other. 

“Thank you. Now I can finally get off this counter.” She notices him standing there, staring at her, and, against her better judgement, she kind of likes it. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

A slight blush climbs up his neck and into his cheeks. “Oh, uh, nope. I’m good. I’m going to let this little guy outside and then I’ll be on my way. I will tell mom the problem is gone, too.” 

“Your mom is Aurora Blake?” She can see the resemblance now. 

“She is,” he confirms. “She owns these shitty apartments, no offense, but she can barely keep them going. My name is Bellamy, by the way. One second,” he holds up his index finger before opening the door and letting the mouse go. 

As soon as he is back inside, she asks, “Then why doesn’t she sell them to someone who can take care of them?” 

“As many problems that come up, she still loves the job, I guess.” He sits down at the table and Clarke joins him across the way. She rests her head on her fist to listen. “She loves being able to give people affordable housing when it’s usually expensive to live here. She isn’t losing anything, but she definitely doesn’t make a lot either.” 

“So, what’s your role in this? If she doesn’t bring a significant amount in, does she pay you?” 

“I help when I’m not working at the mechanic’s. Once in a while, she will give me a little money for all the work I do, but I tell her it’s not necessary. She should keep that money for if something truly bad happens to one of these places. There are only six, but you never know.” 

“You work full time as a mechanic, then you come here and do the odd jobs your mom asks you to do, and you run your sister around whenever she needs you? When do you sleep?” 

“Usually between midnight and five thirty in the morning?” Clarke’s chin drops slightly, which makes Bellamy laugh. “It’s not much, but I have made it work. When I have the day off at work, I sleep in till around eight, so that makes up for it.” 

They sit there and talk for another hour. It would have been longer if Bellamy hadn’t gotten a call in the middle of their conversation. 

“What’s up, mom? Oh, shit I forgot about that. Yeah, I will be right there. Number two, you said? Yeah, okay. I’m leaving now.” 

He hangs up the phone and stands up. Clarke can’t help but slouch in her seat. She doesn’t want him to go. He has been the first real friend she has made since moving here. 

“Well, I guess I will see you around then.” 

“I guess you will.” She gives him her best smile in response to the mock salute from him as he heads out the door. The room feels so much bigger without him in it. And, without the distraction, she realizes how much she still needs to do. She turns on her music again and jams out while she unpacks the rest of the kitchen and then some of the bathroom. The clock reads 12:30 when her head finally hits her pillow. 

Seven short hours later, her alarm is blaring in her ear. Without opening her eyes, she slams the off button. She groans as she swings her legs over her bed. Despite not wanting to physically go to work, she is excited for her first day at the clinic. It’s not nearly the size of the hospital she was at in Polis, but also not filled with the idiots she worked with. 

Clarke walks in the door and heads behind the counter. She clocks in and waits for her next set of instructions. She is so used to seeing patient after patient with no breaks in between that having an empty waiting room throws her off. She needs to know what to do until someone comes in. 

She must show how lost she is on her face because one of the office ladies, Harper, comes in and asks if she needs any help. 

“Is there something I should be doing with nobody around to help?” Clarke asks her. 

“As of now, not really. But, since you are new, if you would like to walk around and get used to where everything is, that would be beneficial.” 

“That’s a good idea. Thank you.” She leaves the office and walks through the halls. There are exam rooms, instrument rooms, medicine rooms. Soon enough, she has a mental map of the entire place. Another reason she likes the smaller size. It took months to be able to navigate the hospital without getting lost. She makes her way back to where the medicine is kept so she can look at that layout when she hears a familiar voice. 

“Hi there, my friend needs a cut looked at.” It’s Bellamy. She creeps down the hall so she can look at him sitting in the waiting room, but she makes sure he doesn’t see her. She isn’t prepared for what she sees. Sitting beside him is a beautiful girl with long brown hair and matching eyes. He has his arm around her shoulder as she presses some gauze on the back of her hand. 

She has known him for literally less than a day, but she thought there was some kind of connection yesterday. He doesn’t stick around and talk with everyone in those apartments, right? Anyways, she should have known he had a girlfriend, especially looking like he does. 

Harper sticks her head into the hallway where she is standing. “Can you look at the cut that just came in?” 

“Definitely. I will be in exam room 1.” Harper nods and calls the girl’s name. Not two minutes pass and she is sitting on the exam chair. 

Clarke looks through her chart and forms. “Hello, Raven. How are you today?” 

“I’m fine except for the cut I’m putting pressure on.” 

“Makes sense. Can you tell me how you got this?” 

“I was at work unloading some old car parts when one slipped and sliced the back of my hand.” She winces when she mentions it, but other than that, Raven doesn’t show much pain. 

“Was there any sort of rust on the metal?” 

“Yeah, quite a bit, I guess. Does that mean something special?” 

“It just means I am going to give you a tetanus shot to prevent from any infection along with the stiches you will need.” 

Raven grumbles and says, “I hate shots.” 

Clarke sees her opportunity and takes it. “I can get your boyfriend to come in and hold your good hand if you would like.” She hopes Raven doesn’t pick up the slight waver of her voice when she calls Bellamy Raven’s boyfriend. 

“It’s all right, I can take the pain.” When Clarke looks back at her, she finds a wide smile on her face. “And he isn’t my boyfriend. We work together and when I cut my hand, he offered to bring me here. Besides, he has his eye on another girl right now.” 

Clarke chokes on her own breath and looks away. If Raven didn’t know who Clarke was before this, she sure as hell knows now. She doesn’t say anything, though. She only watches as Clarke’s ears turn red from embarrassment. 

Thirty minutes later, Clarke is finishing wrapping Raven’s hand and giving her instructions to keep it clean. 

“If you have any questions, call or stop by and I will help you out.” 

Raven stops before leaving the room. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you all morning, you know.” 

“How did you know--” 

“Your name tag. And the way your ears lit up when I said he is interested in someone. I can tell him you say hi.” 

“Um, you don’t have to.” 

“I know.” Raven winks at her. “But I’m going to anyway. Have a nice day!” 

She is out the door before Clarke gets a chance to respond. 

By 6 o’clock, she is back at her apartment sorting through all her clothes. It was hard finding a decent outfit for work this morning, and she doesn’t want to go through this every morning, so she is finally doing something about it. She almost has all her nice clothes hanging up when a loud _snap_ resonates through the room.

She looks into her closet and finds everything on the floor. She knows she has a lot of clothes, but she never would have thought it was enough to bring down the wooden bar they were hanging on. One look tells her why it broke, though. In the middle, there is rot that she didn’t realize was there. Where there is rot, there is also a water leak. 

Clarke sinks onto her bed and pinches the bridge of her nose. For fuck’s sake what else can go wrong? 

Then her eyes snap open. As soon as she calls Aurora to let her know she needs a new closet rod, Bellamy will be on her doorstep. She doesn’t know whether to be nervous or excited. All she does know is that he brings out feelings that she has kept buried for a long time. When he is around, her heart beats fast, her hands get sweaty, and she gets butterflies in the pit of her stomach. And then when he leaves, it feels like he takes a part of her with him. 

Clarke dials the office number. “Hello? Hi Aurora, this is Clarke Griffin again.” 

“Hello Clarke, what can I do for you?” Clarke can’t help but smile knowing that it won’t be Aurora doing anything for her. 

“The rod in my closet snapped because it was rotted, so there is a water leak somewhere. Could you have Bel--, I mean, somebody come look at it?” 

“For sure. I will have him look at it this evening.” 

“Thank you. I will be home all night.” She ends the call, looks around her room, and sighs. It’s still a mess. If there is any chance of him being able to move around in this room, she is going to have to relocate all the shit lying on the floor. She would pile it all on her bed, but an image of her and Bellamy using that bed stops her and brings a blush to her cheeks. She settles on hanging everything on the shower rod for the night. At least it will be off the ground and not ruined. 

An hour of watching tv later, there is a knock on the door. She stands up quickly and checks her reflection in a small mirror on the wall. Satisfied, she opens the door and gives her best smile. Bellamy has a stepladder in one hand, a wooden rod in the other, and is wearing his toolbelt low on his hips. He looks her up and down slowly, taking every part of her. She thinks he pauses on her chest for a split second, but he quickly moves on and stops on her eyes. 

“Show me the way,” he says. His gruff voice sparks a fire in her chest that makes her forget the reason he is here is to fix her closet. All she can think about is the heat of desire spreading from her heart to every inch of her body. She walks him to her room and lets him through the door. 

Bellamy picks up the broken rod and tosses it to the side. “What’s the diagnoses?” Clarke asks while leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. 

“Well, you were right. There is a leak right here in the ceiling,” he points out. She walks up right behind him so she can see. She can smell his cologne mixed slightly with sweat. He must have just gotten off work. Maybe he would want some food. 

“Do you want something to eat? I can throw in a frozen pizza.” 

After removing the wet ceiling tile, he responds, “Sure, that sounds amazing.” They make eye contact and don’t move for a moment. Clarke traps her bottom lip between her teeth before Bellamy breaks their gaze. While on his ladder, he raises his arms to mess with the pipe and gets a flare of excitement when she gets a peek at his toned abs. 

She leaves him to his work and puts the pizza in the oven. Bellamy has to shut the water off to fix the pipe, so at least she has some beer in the fridge. 

A couple minutes after the water is off, she hears him yell, “Fuck!” Concerned, she walks into her room to see what happened. 

“Are you all right, Bel--” She cuts herself off with her own laughter. Bellamy is standing in the same spot as he has been, but now his hair and front of his shirt are soaking wet. She giggles, but the sight of his wet shirt outlining every muscle makes the flame in her chest grow hotter. 

“The water is off, but there was still some left in there that I didn’t think about. Got a towel?” His hands are still above him putting the pipe back together. She watches his biceps flex with each movement and forgets he asked her a question. 

“Yeah, in the bathroom. One sec.” She walks around the corner and opens her cabinet. Thank God there is still one left. She was afraid she would have to give him a dirty one. She really needs to do laundry. 

She throws the towel at his chest and he catches it with ease. He dries his arms and chest and then covered his head in it. With a few aggressive passes through his hair, it almost looks dry. Now the untamed curls are even more unruly. And it looks so damn _good_.

Next thing Clarke knows, Bellamy is a foot in front of her holding the damp fabric between them. “Thanks,” he said, his voice sounding an octave lower than it had a moment before. 

“So, how long am I supposed to live without water?” she asks him, only half joking. 

Bellamy leans against the peninsula in the kitchen and crosses his arms over his chest. “Not long. Luckily, the part I need to fix it is somewhere in the supply closet next to mom’s office. I can get it back here in ten minutes.” His eyes never leave hers, but she can’t say the same. While he was talking, all she could look at was his lips and his little chin dimple that she finds uniquely attractive. She doesn’t want him to leave, and it must show on her face because he says, “Don’t worry. I will be back just as the pizza is cooling off.” 

Clarke dips her head and smiles. Once Bellamy is gone, she looks at the damage in her closet. At least he got most of the water when it fell. She didn’t feel like having to find somewhere to clean some of her best shoes that were sitting on the floor. Then she hears the timer for the pizza go off. She pulls it out and sets it on the stove. She is about to put it back on the cardboard to cut it, but it would cool off too fast and she doesn’t know when he is getting back. 

Bellamy is true to his word and is back soon in her apartment again. He has some kind of pipe fixture in his hand and is wearing a new shirt. He must know what she is thinking because he explains, “I have a stash of extra clothes in that closet. I never know what I may run into and where I may have to go next.” 

“That’s smart. The pizza is ready, and I have some beer. If you want one, I guess.” 

“I have nowhere else to be tonight, so why not.” Clarke doesn’t miss the ghost of a smirk on his face before he reenters her bedroom. She cuts the pizza while he finishes up. Bellamy eventually sits down at the table and she sets a paper plate full of food in front of him, along with a beer. She sits down across from him with the same items. 

“You do some pretty good stitch work,” he tells her. She is confused at first but remembers him and Raven in the clinic this morning. 

“Thanks.” 

“How long have you been a doctor?” 

“A couple years. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Helping people has meant so much to me. I can’t imagine life not doing it. What about you? Has your dream always been to be a mechanic?” 

“Not really,” he admits. “I wanted to be a history professor.” 

“What stopped you?” 

“These apartments. My mom. My sister. They needed me to be here, so I stayed.” He empties his beer and Clarke gets him another one. “I don’t regret it. I will never regret staying to help the ones I love most, but I do wonder sometimes how different my life would have been.” 

“Probably a lot cleaner,” she jokes, and Bellamy almost spits out the pizza in his mouth. They are both cackling now, and when they are done eating, they take their drinks into the living room and sit on the couch together. Clarke feels the electricity passing between them, and she desperately wants to know if he feels it too. She turns in her seat and brings her knees up onto the cushion so they are just barely touching his thighs. Even through that sliver of contact she feels the heat of his body. 

“I want to ask you something, Clarke.” 

“Shoot.” 

“Well, I want to ask you to go out with me sometime but--” 

“But what?” She realizes she sounds way too eager and she should have let him finish. 

“But I am already having such a great time right now that it already feels like our first date.” 

Clarke hadn’t even thought about it, but it’s true. It may not have started like one, but it’s sure ending like one. “I would love to consider this our first date, Bellamy.” 

“Perfect. Well, we have had a meal, so now it’s time for a movie. There is a movie theatre across town if you want to go there?” 

“Netflix sounds just as good to me. That way we can drink all we want.” Bellamy gets a glint in his eye when she says that. 

“Alright then. What movie would you like?” He is scrolling through the comedy section when Clarke sees Murder Mystery. 

“Let’s watch that one! I have been wanting to see it for like a month now.” Bellamy obliges and hits play. She doesn’t know if what they are doing qualifies as watching a movie. All they do is talk to each other and drink beer. She tells him about her family back in the city and what drove her to move. He tells her all about his sister, Octavia, and how proud of her he is becoming. He also mentions how he has had a major part of raising her because their mother has always been so busy. 

“You seem to do well though,” she slurs. There may have been a little too much alcohol tonight. And this is only their first date. 

“Yeah, everything has turned out fine, but neither of them has ever thought about what I gave up for them.” He is slurring, too. She also notices more and more glances lower than her face. If he wasn’t drunk, he would have had way more control over those stolen looks. She has to admit, though, she has taken quite a few looks to other parts of his body, also. 

“I’m sorry. That’s kinda shitty of them.” 

“Nahh,” he chuckles. “I never said anything about what I wanted, so how would they know. I just know now that I will have to voice what I want if I ever intend to have it.” 

Clarke sets down her beer on the table. “And what would you like right now, Bellamy?” 

He does the same and smiles at her. He scooches closer to her and rests his arm beside her head. “Right now, I guess I want--” 

He doesn‘t get a chance to finish because Clarke crashes her lips against him. He doesn’t falter a bit and he devours her right back. The mouths are a wet mess of lips and tongue. Clarke embeds her hands in his dark curls and pulls him impossibly close. She feels her body move in one swift motion and is suddenly straddling his hips. Bellamy’s fingers start to explore the bare skin under her shirt. 

Clarke is about to remove her shirt altogether when his deep voice rumbles her chest. “Wait.” She stops moving and pulls back, but her hands don’t move from the hem. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Clarke, we are kind of drunk.” 

“So? People have drunk sex all the time.” 

“I know, but I really like you, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

She cups his cheek. “I promise you aren’t taking advantage of anything. I want this as much as you do.” She nods as she says this and then softly presses her lips to his giving him the chance to pull away. When he doesn’t, she deepens the kiss and swipes her tongue between his lips. He moans into her mouth and takes her shirt off for her. Just as quickly as he takes hers off, she has his off, too. 

Clarke drags her fingers down his chest, appreciating every line and every muscle engraved on his body. She can tell he is holding back with his hands just resting on her thighs, not moving anywhere. She takes them and slides them up to her waist while also sinking her weight onto him. She can feel every inch of him under her. 

His hands grip her harder and he lets out a long groan in response to her shift. She moves her lips from his mouth to his collar bone and he tilts his head to give her better access. With every new kiss she moves higher until she reaches his ear. 

“Take me to bed, Bellamy,” she whispers. That was the last push he needed, because he immediately grabs her thighs again and lifts them off the couch. When he lays her down on the bed and she feels the size of him through his jeans, she is very glad her headboard isn’t against a wall she shares with her neighbors. This is going to be a wild ride. 

The next morning, she feels an odd draft hitting her down south. She looks to see what is going on but sees her own naked body. Then she remembers. Bellamy and her and all the alcohol they drank. Where did he go? Was he embarrassed to wake up with her? She looks at her phone to check the time. 7:30. 

Shit. 

She had to get ready for work and be there by eight. It’s possible, but it will be close. She uses some dry shampoo to make her hair look presentable and throws on a good outfit. She gets there with three minutes to spare. It’s not like there are any patients to see right away, but what kind of impression would being late on the second day leave? She was in such a hurry that she didn’t even notice the text from an unknown number on her lock screen. 

**Had a great time last night. Want to hang out again tonight?**

Of course it’s from Bellamy, but how did she get her number? Quite frankly she doesn’t care and she creates a new contact for him before responding. 

**Sound fun! See you tonight around seven? **

A couple minutes pass and her phone dings. 

**Perfect. See you then.**

Clarke feels her heart beat faster. He had fun _and_ he wants to come over again! She will try to hold back tonight, but she isn’t promising anything. Once she gets home, though, she needs to clean up from last night’s shenanigans. They happened to make quite a mess. 

Bellamy is a constant in Clarke’s life now. He is at her apartment almost every night, usually to fix something first before anything else. Sometimes they go out for dinner or to the movies, but they always end up back at her place. One night, while they are cuddling on her couch, she asks, “Why are we always here? I want to see your apartment.” 

“I guess it never crossed my mind. This is closer to your job, so I figured you would want to be here. That way you can sleep in longer.” His words sound sincere, but she senses there is something he isn’t mentioning. 

“Appreciated, but why else? Is it so messy that you can barely walk around? Are you a hoarder?” Clarke’s chest flutters with the grin that spreads on his face. “Oh, I know. There are so many books that you are embarrassed for them to be seen!” 

“Princess, you are wrong on all counts,” he laughs. Clarke never thought she would like to be wrong, but he says it so nonchalantly, like for once being wrong didn't have any consequences. In her line of work, being wrong could mean life or death. This is a nice change. 

“Well, it’s Friday night and neither of us have to work tomorrow. I will grab a change of clothes and we can head out. Unless we don’t plan on getting out of bed tomorrow...” She stretches her neck and pecks him on the cheek before untangling their bodies to get up. She is walking away when she feels a tug on her wrist. She is forced to turn around and is met with Bellamy’s now-standing body. He gently takes her face in his hands and presses his lips to hers. 

“Fine, but it’s not what you will expect,” he says. Clarke grabs a few items she will need for tomorrow, which includes her sexiest pair of bra and panties, and they head for his place. Bellamy drives them in his dirty single cab truck and Clarke is glued to his side. She latches onto his arm and his hand rests on her thigh the entire ten minutes it takes to get there. 

Bellamy’s building is quite a bit nicer than the one she lives in. It’s not five stars, but at least it doesn’t look like it’s falling apart at the seams. Once out of the car, Bellamy grips her hand and walks her to his door. Clarke can feel the nervous tension in his hand, but it can’t be that bad, right? If all her guesses were completely wrong, what could there be? 

He opens the door and Clarke is met with a whole bunch of white when she walks inside. That is the color of his walls. There is nothing on them, not even a clock. There is a chair in the center of the living room with a small flat screen in front of it. Beside the chair is a TV tray and a free-standing lamp. That is the entire living room. She walks over into the kitchen. There is a coffee maker, toaster, and a microwave, but that’s about it besides the usual oven and fridge that every kitchen has. 

She looks over to Bellamy leaning against the closed door. He is purposefully not looking at her, so she walks over to him instead and takes his hand. “You okay?” 

“Now you can see how wrong you were earlier. It’s not a mess and I don’t hoard. It’s literally the complete opposite.” 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she tells him as she rubs circles on his knuckles. “I like minimalism. It’s proof that we don’t need every little thing to live a good life.” 

“You don’t understand, Clarke. I don’t live like this because I want to. It’s because I can’t live any other way. I make enough money to pay rent and buy groceries and necessities. Any extra money I make goes to Octavia to help with school or my mom if something happens with the apartments.” 

Clarke feels her heart shatter. She comes from money and even though she got away from that life, she knows if she truly needed the help, her parents would be there for her. Bellamy doesn’t have that, and she doubts he ever has. 

She wraps her arms around his waist and lays her cheek against his chest. “Do you know what I got out of what you just said?” 

“What?” 

“That you are the most selfless brother and son that I have ever met. You put everyone else before yourself and that makes you someone that I am glad I get to be with.” They stand there for a moment in silence, breathing each other’s scents. 

Then Bellamy leads her to the armchair and says, “Sit, let me get you a drink. Would you like tap water or bottled water?” 

She laughs and replies, “Bottled, please,” and sits down. He comes back with two bottles and hands one to her. He is about to get on the ground, so Clarke stands up and says, “Wait. This is your place. You shouldn’t sit on the ground.” 

“It’s fine, I promise.” 

“No. Sit down on the chair. I’ve arranged my own seating.” 

He reluctantly sits, but his face is full of confusion. They both know he doesn’t have another place to sit. Clarke raises one side of her mouth and slides right onto his lap with her legs hanging off the side. He isn’t expecting it, but there is no way in hell he is refusing. She is only in place for a few seconds before her mouth finds his. Desire is creeping up into her chest and all she wants is him. Her hands bury themselves into his curls and he wraps an arm around her waist to pull her closer, if that’s even possible. Bellamy’s other hand is teasing around the waistband of her shorts. 

“Bell,” she sighs, and he stops moving. She doesn’t want him to stop, but she has to ask this question before she loses her nerve. “Are we dating? I mean, we are with each other every night and have sex almost as much. And I love being with you and having you around. Coming home to you is infinitesimally better than to an empty apartment. And--” 

He cuts her off with a kiss. “I feel the exact same way, princess. You are my world, and I would be honored to call you my girlfriend. If you will have me.” 

“Of course I will.” They kiss again, but this time it doesn’t stop. They go right back to where they were before Clarke started talking. Her shirt gets discarded at some point, and he swiftly pops open the button on her shorts along with the zipper pulled down. Clarke moans into his mouth when he starts fingering her panties but is stopped when her phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket and sees her mom’s face on the screen. 

“It’s just the devil herself. She can wait.” They go back to business, but thirty seconds later, her mom calls back. 

Bellamy pulls back this time and whispers, “You should probably get that this time.” 

“Fine, but I’m not going to like it.” Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are pink and swollen from kissing. She brings the phone up to her ear and politely says, “Hi, mom. What’s up?” 

Suddenly Clarke is out of the chair and pacing the living room. Bellamy sits on the edge of his seat waiting for an explanation. 

“What do you mean?” 

Pause. 

“How could that have happened? He is way too young for that! 

Longer pause. Suspense is eating his nerves. 

“Okay, I’m leaving now. I will see you in a couple hours.” She hangs up the phone and collapses on the ground. Bellamy is by her side in a fraction of a second and takes her in his strong arms. 

“Shhh, hey, what did she say?” 

Her sobs keep her from speaking for a couple minutes, but she finally chokes out, “My dad...he’s dead. He had a heart attack!” And she keeps sobbing. Bellamy reaches for her shirt and helps her into it. 

“Then let’s go. I will pack a bag and then we will stop and get your things. I will drive you there because there is no way you are driving yourself.” He stands them up and brings her into another embrace. 

“Thank you,” she weeps. “We need to go.” 

The road to Polis is a silent one. They aren’t joined at the hip this time, but Bellamy makes sure to keep contact by interlacing their fingers. Clarke’s hand goes through waves of clenching tight and then going so slack that he doesn’t know if she is even conscious. She is reliving every memory she has of her father. When he taught her how to ride a bike, when he started crying after seeing her in her prom dress (he never thought he would see her dressed up like that), and even when he grounded her for the first time because she was out an hour past curfew. 

He was her favorite parent. When it comes down to it, she loves her mom, but he was always there for her. He was the one made her soup when she was sick or comforted her when a relationship ended. He taught her that hard work is what gets you to where you want to be, not money or power. And he was the one that told her she could leave when he saw she wasn’t happy there anymore. 

“Sweetheart, go. You will figure it all out. And if you need help, you know who to call,” her dad had said softly. 

“I can’t just get up and leave, dad.” 

“Why not? Why sacrifice your happiness?” 

“Well...you and mom are here. And my friends are here,” she protested, but she can feel herself being swayed. 

“We all have cars, and we will all visit at some point. It will all work out, I promise.” 

“I...okay. I love you, dad.” She decided to do as he suggested and move out of the city to a simpler life. At the time, she thought it was a good idea. 

Bellamy’s voice brings her back to reality and fresh tears slide down her face. “Sorry, princess, but I am getting to the city. I just need directions to your house.” 

She wipes her face with her free hand and croaks, “It’s easy. Turn right at the third stoplight and it’s the second one on the left.” Ten minutes later, he pulls into her driveway. They sit there, Bellamy waiting for Clarke to make the first move. Eventually, she opens her door and walks up the stairs to the entrance. Bellamy is soon beside her and reclaims her hand. She is about to use the key, but it swings open and she sees her mother standing on the other side. For the first time in a long time, Clarke hugs her. 

“Who is this?” she asks Clarke, her voice rough from crying. 

“Mom, this is Bellamy. My boyfriend.” 

“Nice to meet you, and I’m so sorry for your loss,” he says. He shakes her hand but is pulled into a hug. Clarke smiles at him over her mom’s shoulder. She doesn’t know if it’s the situation that is making Abby Griffin express her emotions instead of ignoring them, but she hopes that after she grieves, it stays. Maybe they could form a better relationship. 

The next couple days go by in a blur. It is full of storytelling, crying, and eating. Clarke and her mom pick out a beautiful casket while Bellamy stays close behind, full of support. They get to the funeral and Bellamy keeps his arm around Clarke’s waist at all times, mostly so she can stay standing. She thinks his arms must be sore from holding her up all day. Standing around his grave, she realizes it’s the last few moments that he will be above ground with her. 

After everyone leaves, Clarke walks up to his casket and whispers, “I love you so much, dad. I will never forget what you taught me.” Then she walks back to Bellamy and hugs him tight. He rests his chin on her head and caresses her hair. 

That night, Bellamy and Clarke are laying in her almost-too-small bed, facing each other. They are far enough away that they can see into each other’s eyes, but close enough to breathe each other’s air. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” she mumbles. 

“There is no place I would rather be than by your side.” He kisses her forehead. “Especially at a time like this.” 

“I...” She wants to say something more, but she can’t. Sobs take over for what seems like the millionth time that day and she nuzzles into his chest. His strong arms enclose her into him. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he breathes into her hair. He gently rubs her hand up and down her arm until he feels her breaths become slow and even. Then he finally feels like he can sleep himself. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” her mom told Clarke before her and Bellamy got into his truck. They may not have the best relationship, but given everything that happened, she is going to try harder to make it work. As long as Abby works too, it should work out. 

Twenty minutes out of the city, Bellamy asks, “How are you doing?” 

“It hurts, but I think I will be okay. Dad wouldn’t want me to be sad for too long.” 

“I’m glad. If you need anything, I will be by your side in a minute.” 

“I know that. Thank you.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek before resting her head on her shoulder. “I have a question.” 

“Anything, princess.” 

“Will you move in with me? We are always there anyways, and if your mom needs you to work on an apartment, you will be right there.” 

“Clarke--” 

“I may not have the most space, but we can make it work. I’m tired of living alone and you are the one constant I have in my life.” 

“Just wait--” 

“I love you, Bellamy. If there is anything good that comes out of what happened this weekend, it’s that I know I should tell the most important person in my life how much he means to me before I can’t anymore. That’s you, Bell. I need you.” 

Bellamy stays quiet for a moment. Clarke worries that she said too much at one time and removes her head from his shoulder. She scoots over to her side, but his hand catches her wrist. He pulls the truck over and turn to look at her. 

“I would love to live with you,” he says. 

“But...” 

“But I think you should move to my place. I have more space, and my building isn’t a complete shithole.” Clarke starts laughing at his comment, and he continues, “No offense, I know it’s what you could afford, but together, at my place, we could have a safe foundation AND decorate the place a little bit.” 

She pretends to think about it, but eventually says, “Yes, let’s do it.” She leans over and gives him a light kiss on the lips. “Besides, half my things are still packed and ready to go.” 

He drives back onto the road, his hand in hers. “Oh, by the way,” he starts. “I love you, too. I’m glad a mouse sat underneath your table and trapped you on the counter. Otherwise we may have never met.” 

“Cute, but you know we would have,” she says. He laughs at her, knowing what she means. That place is so crappy that he would have been over for much more than a mouse. They go on talking for the rest of the ride about their future together.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this wasn't my best work, but I would always appreciate some constructive criticism (emphasis on constructive) please and thank you for reading!


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